Fate
by Doll Girl
Summary: Humanized. Sarge and Fillmore's friendship is put to the test as Fillmore is attacked. Can he survive a horrible beating or will fate decide to seperate the dynamic duo? R&R!


A/N: Man I know it's been ages since I've written anything. Sorry! I don't own anything! Sorry if they seem a little out of character. I just wanted to expand on their relationship a bit more. I truly think that they are closer than just friends, more like brothers.

The town of Radiator Springs had become a very popular little town thanks to Lightning McQueen. Many people came and helped the town thrive. Everyone was happy.

Fillmore Pruitt, the town hippie, was a peaceful man. He never resorted to violence if he could help it but, due to circumstances in his life he had no control over, he could defend himself. He had been young, barely eighteen, when he was able to escape his father's tyranny and through fate found his home in this very town. He was thankful to the people who had helped him all those years ago.

The one person that had helped him the most was Sarge, his next door neighbor and friend. It had been strange at first. A dedicated war vetaran who had seen death and destruction and had been withdrawn and seemingly a little cold becoming close to a nature loving, anti-war hippie.

It had been through one small act of kindness on Sarge's part that started it all. Fillmore had stepped into Flo's dirty, unhealthily skinny, and tired. He had only ordered water because he had no money. Sarge had never seen someone so bad off so he decided to help the kid out. He paid for his food and got the whole story, albeit reluctantly, from the teenager. He gave Fillmore a job at his store and the two men became friends.

It wasn't until Fillmore's father arrived to finish the job that their relationship changed. Sarge himself fought the man off when he caught him abusing the poor boy in his shop. After that he became quite overprotective of the hippie.

As the years wore on they became more like brothers. The townspeople all agreed that as unlikely as the pair were they were perfect for each other. Sarge became more friendly. He was still a bit of a grouch at times but he wasn't nearly as cold as he had been before. Fillmore was more confidant about who he was and his true friendly nature showed. They helped each other in ways that no one else could. Sarge even revealed his real name to Fillmore as William McGreggor as a true sign of trust.

Whenever people ask them how they could even stand each other Sarge would only give a tiny smile and Fillmore would chuckle and just say that it had been fate.

So far fate had been good to them. A few years shy of forty passed before fate decided to test them.

It had been storming for a few days and it had knocked out the power. One night Fillmore was lying asleep unaware of the danger he was in.

A man clad in black and a hockey mask broke in the store. He raided the register before he made his way to the two room living quarters. He sneaked into the bedroom and sneered at the old hippie that lay asleep.

Fillmore awoke due to a bad feeling and was startled when a hand covered his mouth. His eyes widened in fear at the muscular man looming above him.

"Don't make a move old man. Don't even make a sound."

Fillmore tried to push him off, to fight back, but stopped when he saw a gleaming knife. His breath hitched when the knife went into his shoulder.

"Quit struggling!"

'Like Hell!' he thought. He managed to move his leg and knee him in the groin, hard.

The man doubled over in pain and Fillmore used it to his advantage. He hooked his legs with the man and flipped them over. He got up and dashed out slamming the door behind him. He grabbed a chair from his kitchen table and propped it against the doorknob. He then ran to the phone and picked it up. He paled when he only heard a recorded message stating that the phone was down.

A gunshot fired and he managed to duck just in time. He ran towards the front door to get out but was shot in the leg. He cried out in pain and fell.

The man pinned him down. He used the knife to dig into Fillmore's side. He took sick pleasure in the pain he was causing.

Fillmore's eyes slid closed as the pain became too much and the darkness overwhelmed him.

Sarge paced back and forth in the waiting room at Carburator County Presbyterian Hospital. It had been five hours ago that he had found Fillmore lying in a pool of his own blood. A terrible message scribed in blood on the wall.

He stopped at the window and stared out. His fists clenched as he shook in anger, grief, and fear for his friend.

It had been a hate crime. For some terrible reason that monster had attacked Fillmore because of his beliefs.

_The world is without another Freak_

That horrible message was written on an innocent man's wall with his own blood. Sarge's eyes flashed dangerously at the thought. Due to prejudice Fillmore might...

The Army vetaran shook his head as a wave of sorrow hit him full force. That hippie had been the only one that could reach his war-torn heart. He could be annoying sure, but it was more to keep Sarge from becoming detached from the world. If Fillmore died he had no idea what he'd do.

He couldn't bear to lose the only family he'd ever known.

The hours ticked by with no word until a dawn approached. A doctor came out. "Does Mr Pruitt have any other family?"

The blood drained from Sarge's face. "N-no he's pretty much been an orphan since he was eighteen. I'm the closest thing he has to a family. Why?"

The doctor sighed. "We've had to give him several pints of blood and we nearly lost him. He's fighting but it might not be enough. He is stable at the moment."

Sarge nodded. "Can I see him?"

"Yes. Why don't you get somthing to eat while we move him? He'll be in Room 208."

Again Sarge nodded. He sighed and walked to the nearest restaurant that served breakfast that early in the morning. He was back thirty minutes later and went up to the room.

The doctor put a hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes it just takes a loved one to pull someone out of a coma. You can probably help him better than anyone else here can." He left.

Sarge took a deep breath before he went in. His hand flew to his mouth as a choked sob managed to escape his normally calm and composed exterior. Somehow he managed to sit in a chair beside the bed and take his friend's pale hand in his own.

Fillmore had never looked _this _bad before. His face was black and blue and there was a bandage wrapped around his head. His shoulder length blonde hair lay spread over his pillow and Sarge briefly wondered where the tie-dyed bandanna was that he normally wore. His whole torso was wrapped in bandages and gauze.

His voice quivered a bit as he spoke.

A voice, soft and gentle, seemed to be coming from the darkness.

"Please wake up...I need you...Don't do this..."

It was comforting and familiar.

"Fillmore it's me, Sarge."

Blackness again.

Day's passed with nothing changing. Sarge very rarely ever left his side. He spoke to him about the upcoming race and how Lightning dedicated it to him and asked for a nationwide prayer.

He also told of the manhunt for the creep that did this. Every law enforcement agency was on the look out.

Fillmore showed no signs of waking up from his coma. In fact he seemed to be getting worse.

The weeks wore on before something did happen. A small ray of hope gleamed.

Sarge was pleasantly shocked to hear a groan coming from his friend and watched as his eyes opened a little. "Fillmore?"

Fillmore looked at him confused as well as tired. He didn't seem to be with it.

Sarge smiled at him. "Thank God." His smile fell a little at the look on his face. He gulped. "Do you know who I am?"

Fillmore just stared at him before shutting his eyes. The last thing he remembered was hearing a sigh as a hand gently cupped his cheek.

"Go to sleep Brother. I'll be right here when you wake up."

When Fillmore woke up again he blinked and looked around. He realized he was in Doc's clinic and the sun was shining. He saw Sarge sitting in a chair and sleeping on his arms. Their hands were loosely holding. He squeezed it gently.

Sarge stirred and realized his friend was awake. He sat up and grinned from ear to ear. "How are you feeling?"

Fillmore winced. "A little sore. How long...?"

"Two months. You woke up a few times but were out of it. You were moved here when you started to improve." Sarge got up and called for Doc.

Doc walked in smiling. "Do you have any idea how worried we've all been? We thought for sure that you were a goner."

Fillmore chuckled. "Nah ya won't get rid o' me that easily man."

Doc checked him over. "Most of your injuries healed while you were unconscious. I need to keep you here overnight just in case and then you just take it easy for another week." He smiled again. "I'll tell the others the good news."

Fillmore pushed himself into a sitting position. That night came whirling back. "Did they catch the guy that did this?"

Sarge's face darkened. "Yes but he shot himself in the head before he could be arrested."

Fillmore stared at his friend. "Sarge..."

Sarge snapped out of it. "Sorry."

Doc left.

Sarge sat on the bed and squeezed his friend's uninjured shoulder. "Fillmore there was a message written on your wall. It said 'The world is without another Freak'. It was written in blood."

"Mine I take it?"

He nodded. His expression turned sad and sorrowful. "I didn't hear a damn thing that night. If I did..."

"Ya woulda come to my rescue," Fillmore smiled. "Again."

Sarge embraced him tightly. All of the fear and worry came to the surface and he let his tears fall. "I've never been so scared as I was when I saw you lying there so weak. I know I don't say it enough anymore but you are a brother to me. I couldn't bare it if you died. Hell, you're the reason I'm still sane! I love you you know that right?"

Fillmore returned the embrace as best he could. "I know. I love you too. You're the only family I've ever known. You don't have to say it because in a sense ya show it every day. You may roll your eyes at me but you smile a little. You call me a 'damn hippie' or a 'hippie freak' but there's always a little affection behind it. If it weren't for you dude I'd have died a long time ago."

They pulled apart and looked at each other with such a bond of brotherhood that it could never be broken. They would always be there to catch each other when they fell.

Two mornings later Sarge's Revellie went off as he raised his flag. When it was done he actually smiled when Hendrix blared from next door.

"Will you turn that disrespectful junk off!"

"Respect the classics man!"

Sarge went inside feeling like they had passed fate's test with flying colors. Everything was back to normal.

The End


End file.
